“What are they doing there?”
“I saw the executioner burn Rousseau’s Emile.”
“They may do that, as far as I am concerned, and throw the fool himself into the fire.”
“Monsieur Voltaire!”
“Yes: one cannot tolerate lunatics: there are limits!”
“Where?”
“Imposed by a sound intelligence.”
“Yes, and saw them burn the new edition of Monsieur Voltaire’s Candide.”
“For shame! But it is merely a mob in Geneva.”
“A Protestant mob, with your permission.”